Follow You Anywhere
by Teliko. x3
Summary: Their outings become more frequent as the years progress.
1. Season One

**Follow You Anywhere**

 **Rating: It's fine for now.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **Summary: Their outings become more frequent as the years progress.**

 **A/N: I got this idea when I was visiting my second mom up in Washington. I'll try to get it to follow every season, but I'm not sure how well I'll be able to write season eight and nine. I've already got all the scenes planned out, I just need to write them. So I'm sorry in advanced for any grammar mistakes!**

 **The song playing in the bar is Black by Pearl Jam.**

 **Special thanks to Rachel (second mom) who helped me come up with some of the scenes!**

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She's packing up her things and preparing to head home for the evening. Today had been a good day. He had managed to slip by without annoying her too much with his talk of conspiracies and secrets. She had even smiled at him once or twice throughout the day. It had made him happy to see _her_ happy. So much, that the prospect of them actually getting along had provoked him to invite her out for a drink at a nearby pub.

He had assured her that they would stay for no more than two drinks, that he would behave himself. She had to admit that it was a tempting offer and the thought of a drink was appealing, but so was the idea of a bubble bath and a glass of wine. She would've been happy to go with Mulder, save for the fact that he would have brushed her off towards the end of the night for some tall, leggy blonde. So she turns him down politely.

"I really appreciate the offer, Mulder, but I think I'll just head home for the night." She can see the letdown in his face and the guilt strikes her immediately, but she reminds herself to be strong and tries to convince herself that he'll call an old friend from the academy so he won't be at the bar alone. "Maybe some other time," she offers up some hope before reaching for her coat. He offers up a sincere smile and waves her off, telling her to get out of the office and enjoy her weekend.

So she does. She heads for the parking garage, gets in her car, and drives home without it crossing her mind again. It's when she steps into her empty apartment that the image of a lonesome Mulder sitting at a bar begins to occupy her mind. She pressures the thought into the back of her head when she spots the bottle of wine staring back at her from her kitchen counter.

She draws her bubble bath and settles in with a considerable amount of wine. She sighs when she descends into the hot water and can practically feel the stress abandon her body. She closes her eyes and lets the sweetness of the wine soothe her throat. When the glass is empty, she sets it down on her bathroom floor and proceeds to strip off the makeup she had applied earlier that morning.

When her bath comes to an end and she's setting out carefully with a towel wrapped around her, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror that's hanging above her sink. She can't help but think that the woman staring back at her was a cold, heartless person for declining Mulder's innocent invitation.

She glances at the clock that's hung up on her bathroom wall and swears.

Only Fox Mulder could make her go home, relax, and get fixed up for a second time that day, only to join him at a bar that he most likely already had company at. But it's too late to reconsider once she has her hair fixed in a messy pony tail and throws on some casual clothes. She huffs a piece of her bangs out from her eyes in frustration as she grabs her keys and heads out into the dark of the night.

She prays that he's still at the bar by the time she gets there and finds a parking spot down the busy road in front of the pub. She doesn't see his car, but she knows his apartment isn't too far away, so the image of him walking alone proceeds to break her heart even more.

She's been to this bar once or twice before, so it's vaguely familiar when she steps through the front doors. A few heads turn and notice her arrival, but not Mulder, who is seated at the bar with his back to her. There's a recognizable song playing through the speakers and fills the bar room as she watches him take another sip of his half-empty beer.

She walks up to where he sits in an unhurried pace and when she's close enough, she reaches out to tap his shoulder. He turns his head immediately at her touch and beams with delight when he see's her standing awkwardly behind him. He says nothing, but pats the empty bar stool next to him, which she languidly climbs up on. Her feet barely reach the foot rests bolted to the stool and he acknowledges it with a smirk.

"What made you change your mind," he asks as he flags down the bartender.

Her hands are in her lap as they clutch onto her wallet that houses her ID and money. She doesn't have any time to answer his question though, because she's having to order her drink once the bartender notices her sitting besides him. But she's left with Mulder staring at her when the man behind the bar leaves to fetch her mixed drink, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," she starts cautiously. "I guess my bubble bath and wine weren't as exciting as I had hoped," she confesses, then offers up a small smile when her mix drink is presented to her. At the mention of her bath, he pays close attention to her face and notices that her makeup is fresh. There's a small sliver of optimism, one much like earlier that day when he had earned a couple of smiles from her, when he grasps the fact she had completely disregarded any previous plans to accompany him here at the bar.

"Well regardless… I'm glad," he confides in her, then turns his attention back to his beer.

"How long have you been here," she asks, noticing his homey attire consisting of jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that covers up his white undershirt. It means he had time to go home and change… that he hadn't come here straight after work like she thought he would have.

"About… an hour or so," he replies after checking his watch.

The spend the rest of the night together at the bar, slowly sipping at their drinks and talking about whatever comes up in conversation. To her surprise, the majority of their topics hadn't been work related. In the few short hours they spent together, she felt more at ease with him. It hadn't been necessarily difficult to get along with him before tonight, but she had finally made a connection with him and it felt remarkable.

So when the time comes for the bar to close up, he picks up their tabs and pays it off with cash while leaving a generous tip for the young man behind the bar. She had protested, insisting that she could pay for her own drinks, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Think of this as a 'thank you' for coming out tonight," he says as he leads them out onto the sidewalk. A few more of the bar goers are trickling out through the doors, but they're the only two standing in front of it.

"I had fun," she finally says, shoving her hands into her jacket pocket and slightly leaning back to get a good look at him in the dim light of the city. "I'm glad I came," she declares, offering him a coy smile. He nods his head in agreement and reaches out to gently grab her arm, leading her away from the bar and walking her down to her car. When they reach where she's parked, he slows and lets her slip past him. She leans back against the passenger door. "You need a ride back home?"

"I planned on walking," he says as he points in the direction of his apartment, but he notices her start to shake her head. "What," he asks with a knowing smile.

"It's no trouble. Get in," she's made up her mind, pushing herself away from the car and closer to where he stands on the sidewalk, then turns sharply and heads for the driver's side of the car. She slips into her seat at the same time he opens his door.

The drive back to his apartment takes no time at all and before he knows it, she's pulling up to his building and parking her car out front. He unbuckles the seatbelt and for a split second, debates asking her to come up to his apartment, but it's late… and he knows she'll decline.

"Thanks," he says gratefully. She nods her head in response. He pushes open the door, but before he climbs out from the car, looks at her one last time. "Hey. Do me a favor?"

She looks up at him with wide eyes, encouraging him to continue.

"Call me when you make it back home." It's not a question, but more of a request. Her hands grip the steering wheel.

"Okay, Mulder," she says amusingly.

"I'm serious." So she nods her head, he pushes her car door closed, and watches as she drives off into the night.

Half an hour later, he's headed for his couch after he's turned on his television, but his ringing phone stops him from lounging back. He picks up the headset to his phone and answers.

"Mulder, it's me. I'm back home," she lets him know and he knows now that he'll sleep a little easier knowing she made it home okay.

"Good." He drags a hand over his face as he leans against his desk. "Listen, have a good rest of your weekend. And… thanks again."

"Goodnight, Mulder," he hears her say with the hint of a smile in her voice.

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 **A/N: Alright. Season one down... the rest to go! Review and let me know if you want me to continue!**


	2. Season Two

**Follow You Anywhere**

 **Rating: It's fine for now.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **Summary: Their outings become more frequent as the years progress.**

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited! You guys keep me going! So here's the second chapter, which follows after Firewalker in season two. Sorry for any grammar mistakes! The song is Found Out About You by Gin Blossoms! Enjoy!  
**

* * *

She hadn't even been back a month before Dr. Adam Pierce had come to them asking for help. Mulder remembered having a hard time concentrating on the video Pierce had brought with him as evidence. His senses were in overdrive with Scully standing only a few feet behind him, much like she always had done over the past year or so; leaning against the shelf with her arms crossed over her chest.

He had tried to dismiss her from the case, explaining to her that it wasn't such a good idea if she had tagged along. She had appreciated his concern, but she was ready to get back to work. He couldn't help but try again, the thought that she had been abducted because of him still lingering in the back of his mind. He had encouraged her to take some personal time off from work, but she had countered his argument by explaining she had lost too much time.

There was nothing else he could say to her, so he nodded his head in defeat and hoped that this case would run smoothly. And it had… except for the exploding spores that would burst from people's throats.

He could remember the way his heart sank into the pit of his stomach when Trepkos started to explain how it had all happened; how his team had all gotten infected just from standing around the contaminated body. But the panic didn't set in until he realized he had left Scully back at the base with an infected Jesse.

The sound of the gun cocking echoed in the volcano, but even with the gun pointed at his head, he was determined to go to Scully. He _had_ to get to Scully.

" _Then you're gonna have to shoot me, because I'm walking out of here."_

And when he finally found her, chained at the wrist to a dead Jesse O'Neil, the guilt came flooding back. He ran up to her, dropped his flashlight, and reached out with one hand to cup her cheek. She had promised him over and over again that she was okay, but that wasn't going to stop him from looking her over and making sure there wasn't a single scratch on the surface. She had closed her eyes and inhaled deep as his hand slowly left her face, then turned to show him her cuffed hand.

The case is over, finally. He manages to get them back home to D.C. in one piece and he's forever grateful she wasn't hurt save for the bruises around her wrist where O'Neil had slapped the handcuffs on her.

The helicopter had touched ground and she was hesitant to get off. He knew she hated flying, but this was something different and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He chalked her distant behavior up to stress and restlessness. Maybe a good night's sleep would do her some good. But when she comes into work the next day, Friday, she's still distracted and listless.

The day creeps on at an insufferable pace and he feels horrible that she's here in the first place. So he does the only thing he can think of to try and lighten the mood.

"What do you say we grab a drink after work," he offers, much in the same way he had nearly a year ago.

She's sitting in her normal spot in the chair that's across from him, but it takes her a while to process his question. He's sure she'll turn him down, making up some excuse as to why she can't make it that night. But little does he know, she's actually looking forward to their next outing. He's bracing himself for a blunt 'no', but when she nods her head and the beginning of a smile starts to form on her face, he's stunned.

"Yeah… why not," she says after a few minutes of silence. He glances up at the clock and realizes that they've still got a couple of hours until the rush of bar goers pack the local pubs for happy hour. But he knows better than to try to encourage her to blow off work. He's not pushing his luck.

It's agony watching the time pass by, but when the clock hits five o'clock, he slowly gets up and watches as she shrugs her coat on. It had been fun last time, from what she could remember, drinking with him at the bar without any interruptions from work. It was why she had agreed to go out with him again this night, partially because she needed a stiff drink after the recent events and also because she liked being close to him like this, now that they were fully acquainted with one another.

—

He picks her up and drives them to a new bar. She's still quiet, but talks willingly whenever Mulder directs a question at her. It's nearly ten o'clock by the time they squeeze into the crowded, deafening bar. He's looking back at her every now and again to make sure she doesn't disapprove of the place he's chosen.

There's not much room left at the bar, so he squeezes in and motions for Scully to follow close behind him. He orders a beer and when he turns to her to get her drink order, she's standing on her toes to look over his shoulder and get the bartender's attention. She gets something with vodka in it, something strong and he smiles.

He pays for their first round of drinks and leads them to a small table that had just been given up by another couple. There's an alternative song blaring through the speakers and she can't help but think that Melissa knows this song, somehow. It doesn't go lost on Mulder, either, who begins bobbing his head in time with the music, locking eyes with her as he does so and trying to get another smile from her.

It works.

She laughs before taking a sip of her own alcohol and sets the glass down on the table between them.

"Tell me what happened back at the base. With Jessie," he reminds her and she looks away for a moment. "Do you think she knew she was infected all this time?"

"I think… I think she was afraid," she answers after taking a few moments to carefully think about her answer. "She knew what was at stake… and what this thing was capable of doing. She was afraid, Mulder." The unspoken agreement between is evident by him nodding his head.

"I'm gonna ask you a question… and I want you to be honest with me," he says. She reaches out for her drink in anticipation for what's to come. Maybe she'll need more alcohol for whatever it is. She just nods her head, not trusting her own voice, and encourages him to continue. "Was this case too much? I know you want to get back to work as soon as possible, but I-"

"Mulder, I'm fine," she cuts him off quickly, not wanting the topic of work to dampen their evening. "I'm back," she confirms and he relaxes at her words, almost as if he needed to hear the words directly from her mouth to really believe she was here and staying. "I'm not going anywhere." He nods and holds his beer absently, watching her put away the vodka like a champion. "Now," she says as she slams the empty glass onto their table. "Shots?" He smiles.

"Now we're talkin', Scully." He watches her hop down from their table, literally, and within minutes, is coming back with two shot glasses filled with an amber-colored liquor. He knew better than to ask her what it was, but by the smell of it, he guessed whiskey.

She remains standing close by him after he's accepted his shot from her and she raises her glass in a toast. He wishes she wouldn't brush off her abduction like it had never happened. He wanted to talk to her, comfort her, learn from her... but she wasn't having any of it. Maybe this was her way of dealing with it; being here with him instead of sulking alone in her apartment.

"To gaining back lost time," she says finally. Their glasses clink together and she shoots the alcohol back without missing a beat. She slams her shot glass down before him and prays the whiskey will do something about the constant reminder of her abduction. But it's a lost cause, because she's tried this already… just not with Mulder involved.

He pushes their empty shot glasses together when he notices the dart board hung up across the bar, currently unoccupied. So he slides off from the bar stool and drags her to the open area, obtaining six sharp darts from the bartender, and handing her three.

"Ever play before," he asks as he takes his spot behind the marking on the floor and beings practicing.

"No," she cautiously confesses. "I take it you have, though?"

"We had one of these at the beach house when I was younger."

"Well at any rate, it's probably not a good idea to throw those things around in a bar."

"It's only dangerous if you miss," he says as he throws his last dart, then turns to her, and wraps one arm around her shoulders. Before tonight, she would have instinctively pulled away, tilted her head back to remain a considerable distance from him, but tonight… she lets him pull her over to where he's standing. He doesn't move far from their shared spot. He's so close, she can feel the heat radiating from him. "Besides, you're a medical doctor," he whispers as she throws her first dart. It nearly misses the bullseye and he smirks.

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 **A/N: Season two done! Sorry for any grammar mistakes you guys found! Next up, season three! Review and let me know!**


	3. Season Three

**Follow You Anywhere**

 **Rating: It's fine for now.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

 **Summary: Their outings become more frequent as the years progress.**

 **A/N: Thank you for all the reviews and follows! You guys are the best! Here's season three! Sorry for any grammar mistakes! The song is Underneath The Stars by The Cure.  
**

* * *

He pushes his way through the ICU, passing up nurses and doctors left and right. He's got to see Melissa, to thank her for inadvertently saving her sister's life. He hadn't heard from Scully since she had left to come here and he was worried about her.

He spots her sitting in an empty room facing an empty, made up bed and his heart swells in his throat. ' _This is all my fault,_ ' is all he can think to himself. Over and over again. He sighs in the doorway just enough for her to detect his presence, and she turns in her chair. She's unconsciously wringing her hands in her lap.

He can't bare to meet her eyes, because he knows if he see's her so much as shed a tear or quiver her lip, he'll break down in front of her. But he pushes into the room anyway to stand closer to her.

"It happened three hours ago," she says with very little emotion, her voice flat and lifeless. "She went into surgery, and the… damage to her brain was worse than they had hoped." The news of her sister's death makes him grow weak, so he lowers himself at the waist and bends his knees so he can get a better look at her face. He doesn't say anything. "Her blood pressure started to rise and… she slipped away," she finishes with a cracked voice and all he can think to do is reach out to grab her hand. "She died for me, and I tried to tell her I was sorry, but I don't think she'll ever really know," she says as the tears begin to well up in the corners of her eyes.

"She knows." He's got the most sincere look on his face and she's not sure which is more painful; the fact that Melissa is gone or that Mulder blames himself for her death. It was no one's fault except her own. "Melissa knows," he's able to tell her this in much confidence because he's met the older Scully sister; whenever he was in a hospital room much like this one not even a year ago, willing and praying and hoping that she would come out of her coma.

"You were right. There is no justice." There's a look he's never seen before; a mixture of complete defeat, heartbreak, and anger. It's a look that could kill and he feels sorry for the soul who's responsible for Melissa's death, because he recognizes that look instantly… it's a look of revenge. But he knows what'll happen to her if she follows down the same path he had whenever _his_ sister had been taken from him.

"I don't think this is about justice, Scully."

"Then what is it about?" Her voice is unsteady again and he wishes he could take away her agony, bring Melissa back, and save her from the long road of recovery ahead, but he can't and it kills him inside.

"I think it's about something we have no personal choice in. I think it's about fate." She stares at him, her blood-shot eyes scanning his face for any signs of hope. It's something Melissa would say and she can feel the tears starting to collect once more. "Skinner told me that he talked to you, that you were insistent about coming back to work. Now, if Melissa's death is-" She shakes her head instantly. She's heard this speech a million times from him after her abduction.

"I need something to put my back up against." The determination in her voice is near frightening and she's shaking her head slowly, letting him know there is absolutely no room for discussion on this matter.

"I feel the same way. We've both lost so much. But I believe that what we're looking for is in the X Files. I'm more certain than ever that the truth is in there."

She's about damn tired of the X Files. Look where it had gotten her. Abducted and a dead sister.

"I've heard the truth, Mulder. Now what I want are the answers." Her confession strikes a cord in his heart; it's almost exactly what he had said after learning about his sister's disappearance. He knows there's nothing else he can say to make her feel better, so he reaches up with one arm to wrap around her shoulders, his hand wrapping around her neck softly so he can pull her to rest against him. Her head rests against his and he runs a hand through her hair to let her know that he's here; he'll be here as long as she needs.

—

The dead tone coming from the receiver of his cell causes an unsettling in his stomach. It wouldn't have been much to worry about… except this had been the tenth time he's called. It had only been a week since Melissa had died. And to her word, she had showed up to work ready and determined to find her sister's killer. But it was Saturday night… and he wanted to check up on her. He had wished someone had done the same for him when he was dealing with Samantha's disappearance.

He grabs his keys without a second thought and races from his apartment, trying to get to Scully's apartment as fast as possible. He knew he'd look ridiculous showing up at eleven o'clock at night, flustered and worried, especially if she was there and just not in the mood to talk. But he rather look like a fool than lose her a second time… for good.

He's parking his car, dashing across the busy street, climbing her stairs, and sorting through the keys on his lanyard until he finds the one that'll unlock her apartment. He wills himself to slow down, take a deep breath, and knock.

But he grows anxious when he doesn't hear her tiny footsteps coming to the door. He unlocks it within record time and when he pushes it open, he's greeted by a dark, empty apartment.

"Scully?" He's stalking through her living room, her kitchen, her bathroom, her bedroom… and nothing. "Scully!" He stops, standing in her abandoned bedroom and runs a nervous hand through his hair. ' _Think, Mulder,_ ' he tells himself.

She hadn't mentioned anything about her visiting her mother or brothers all week, but it was too late to call Mrs. Scully and Bill would just pick a fight with him. So he steps out of her room, retracing his steps for any clues as to where she may have went. It's almost a lost cause, her apartment virtually spotless, until the culprit makes itself seen.

When he flicked the kitchen light on, the empty bottle of wine stuck out on her kitchen counter like a sore thumb.

"Shit," he mutters, headed for the door and locking up her place behind him.

—

He's checked five bars so far… with no Scully in sight. He can just about imagine how frantic he must have looked, rushing into each bar with panic all over his face and rugged breathing, intense eyes scanning the room for a particular redhead.

He's desperate by the time he pulls up to the last bar. He's indifferent about his car; as long as it's parked, he doesn't care how many tickets he'll have to pay. If it means he finds Scully here, he'll pay any price to make sure she's okay.

When he pushes open the doors and scans the area, he lets out a shaky breath he never knew he was holding in when he spots her… alone, in the corner booth, nursing what looks like her fifth mixed drink. He passes the bar, pushes through crowded areas, and reaches her just in time for her to finish her drink.

"Scully," he breaths out, not wanting to take a seat just yet. She's slow to look up at him. Her eyes are bloodshot and heavy. He sighs out loud, her condition actually scaring him. He's never seen her so… lost. He reaches out with one hand to cup her cheek and he can still feel the wet trails of where her tears had fallen. She sucks in a shaky breath of her own at his warm touch and then turns away from his hand.

"What are you doing here," she says before sniffing. He decides to take a seat across from her at the booth. She's hiccuping and he knows she's drunk. She hides it well, though.

"Ten voicemails," he starts and she looks confused. "That's how many I left before I figured something was wrong." She reaches out for her wallet that's resting on the table, intending to get up on unsteady legs to buy herself another drink, but his hand comes out and his fingers wrap around her wrist to stop her. "Scully," he begs, but she challenges him with a deathly stare. The only thing she wants right now is more alcohol, not physical contact. "Come on," he tries again, her wrist still clasped in his strong hold. He's afraid that there'll be bruises in the morning, but she's too intoxicated to notice how hard he's hanging onto her.

"What are you really doing here, Mulder," she asks, pulling her hand forcefully away from his hold. It's like a slap in the face, but more painful.

"I'm here… to take you home, Scully," he says after much thought and consideration; coming to realize that it's not really _her_ in front of him. This was a sad, broken Dana Scully. "Come on," he repeats himself, except this time standing from the booth and concealing her from the other bar goers who have turned their heads in her direction. "Take my hand," he encourages softly and after a few seconds, she does. He inhales sharply as she grabs her wallet and comes to stand, squeezing his hand harder as she comes to gain her balance so close to him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine. Just take me home." So he does. He spots her car finally as they step out of the bar and he rightfully passes it up, leading her to his car. It's nearly three o'clock in the morning by the time he gets her safely back to her apartment. She's been fighting sleep the entire drive back, but when his car comes to a fault, she's unbuckling herself from the seat and pushing the door open. He follows her silently up the stairs, into the elevator, down her hallway, and as she unlocks her front door.

As the heavy wood swings open, she's staring at the spot on her floor where Melissa's body had been discovered. The crime scene pictures she had reluctantly viewed flood her brain and all she see's is her older sister's bloody corpse a few feet in front of her.

She's suddenly sobbing, shutting her eyes tight and reaching out with both hands to brace herself on something. It's Mulder who suddenly grabs her, spinning her around to take her eyes off from the spot where Melissa was killed and pulling her into an embrace. Her arms are bunched against his chest at first, but when the tears refuse to stop, she slowly wraps him around his waist as his hand buries itself into her hair, holding her head steadily against his body.

"I can't be here," she cries into his shirt, her tears soaking the material. So he pulls hers out from the doorway of her apartment and shuts the door behind them, locking it with her own keys and shoving them into his pocket.

He stands in her dimly lit apartment hallway and holds her, preparing for a long night ahead on his couch.

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 **A/N: So there it is! Season four is next! Let me know how you guys like it! :) Again, sorry for any grammar mistakes!  
**


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